


And Then There Was One

by blackwatch-jess (KessijaScene)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Death, Explicit Language, GTA AU, Gang Wars, Gen, Grief, I'm so sorry, Lads v Gents, implied Gavin/Ray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KessijaScene/pseuds/blackwatch-jess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That was when Geoff knew they weren’t here for money. They weren’t here to gain control of anything. They were here to die if they had to. Here, no doubt, to avenge that fucking kid they’d killed. And that kind of rage, that kind of love, was goddamn deadly on the wrong side of the gun."</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then There Was One

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.
> 
> This was largely inspired by Bad Guy by 3Oh!3, if you wanted to listen while you read.

There was stillness over the city that had him on his toes. He was shifting, the cool metal of his pistol warming in his palms. The wind rattled the lid of the dumpster beside him, and Michael flinched. He looked over at the rusted gray door beside it, thinking it wouldn’t take much to bring it down; the less work, the better. A strange sound caused him flick his gun up, nearly squeezing the feather light trigger. Someone was standing at the end of the alley, and he curled his lips before dropping the gun back to his side.

“Fucking Christ, Gavin,” he snapped, eyebrows knitted in frustration. “You’re lucky I didn’t blow your fucking skull open just now.”

“My boy, you wouldn’t!” Gavin gasped, covering his chest in feigned offense. He rolled his eyes as he marched forward. “Besides, you were expecting me, you bloody idiot.”

“I know, but something’s fuckin’ weird.” Michael glanced around, easing his gun back up a little. “City’s quiet, and I thought Ray said the Gents had a heist planned?” That was the whole reason they were doing this tonight. If the Gents were on a heist, they wouldn’t be bothered to protect this asshole.

Gavin frowned suddenly, darkness crossing his eyes. “You’re right.” He slung his AK off his back, gripping the underside with white knuckles and finger hovering over the trigger. His change in demeanor had Michael gritting his teeth. “Where is Ray, anyway?”

“Top side.” Michael jerked his chin at the building across the street. He let out a high whistle. A light blinked at them. Gavin nodded. “Ready to hit this place?”

That signature grin returned, toothy and lopsided and eager. Gavin rumbled, “Light ‘em up, boy.”

Michael smirked back, turning to slam his shoulder into door on the wall. “Get your fuckin’ hands up!” he shouted, barrel shoved in the face of the nearest employee. They complied, eyes huge and terrified. “Hands up, everyone! On the ground! Get the _fuck_ down!” He shoved the woman he had and she crumpled. He didn’t care, he was too busy watching everyone else slowly sink to their knees.

“Now. We’re only going to ask once,” drawled Gavin, his assault rifle jammed into the back of someone’s head. “Where is Burnie Burns?” Silence. Michael squinted. The Brit shrugged. “Fine then.” Gavin fired, a burst of bullets going into the man on his knees. He fell with a thud, and people screamed. Someone started crying. They didn’t ask again. A woman tried to bolt out of the door, but before she could get it open, Ray dropped her, glass shattering and blood spraying across the patrons behind her. They waited.

“I-” A man shifted, pushing his glasses up. There was no fear in his eyes; he knew what was coming. He stood, and the two Lads trained their guns on him. Michael started forward. “I’m Burnie Burns.” 

Michael looked him over, sneering as he placed the end of his gun into Burns’s forehead. “Gent,” he hissed. A muffled bang, and Burns was a memory. Blood sprayed on Michael’s face, but he made no effort to wipe it off. Smoke trailed from the barrel while he stood there. People were shaking, sobbing. “Walk it off,” he snapped at them. Gavin was already cleaning out the register. Taking the cash meant getting richer and throwing the cops off. Win-win.

“Alright, boy. We’re good. Let’s go.” Gavin’s jacket looked substantially thicker, padded with cash. He kept his gun up, swinging it around as they backed out.

“Thanks for doing business with us,” Michael called as they strutted out. The door closed with a clang. Ray flicked his light at them again, ‘on my way.’ Michael whistled to show he’d seen. Gavin pushed the dumpster to block the back door. Didn’t need them coming back here, now, did they? He leaned against it, using his shirt to wipe off the blood-stained barrel of his AK. Michael did the same. “Probably should have used silencers, huh?” he mumbled as an afterthought.

“Wouldn’t ‘ave done much,” Gavin mused. “There were bloody forty people in there. Sound probably helped scare ‘em into submission.”

Michael raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “True. Nice one, Gavy.”

The rumbling of Ray’s shitty car drew their attention up. He honked, and both Lads groaned at that fucking squeaky clown horn. They started forward, and Ray rolled down the window.

“You ladies need a ride?” he shouted, grinning as he leaned across the passenger seat to peak at them.

“Fuck off.” Michael grinned. “Hey, nice fuckin’ shot earlier.”

Ray shrugged, but there was a twinkle of pride in his eyes. “Just my job. But seriously, about some ladies-”

Blood sprayed into the air, coating the seats of that goddamn car. Ray looked down, grabbing uselessly at the hole in his chest. “Well, shit.” Red flowed out of his mouth and over the seat. He lifted his gaze. Gavin was screaming, but he couldn’t hear anything. Michael was roaring, running for the car in slow motion. “Sorry, Lads.”

He was slumped against the driver’s side door by the time Michael got to him. His glasses were hanging off one ear, eyes open and glassy. Michael ripped the door open, and Ray fell to the ground with a hollow thump. Michael fell and grabbed his face; he checked his neck and both wrists. Nothing.

“He’s fucking gone.” Michael whispered. “He’s fucking _dead_ , goddammit, _he’s fucking dead!”_

“X-Ray," whined Gavin, tears falling despite himself. “X-Ray, _please_.” Oh god, he was sobbing wildly, clutching Ray to his chest. “Wake up, wake up,” he screamed. His chest and hands were soaked with blood. Gavin was shivering.

“C’mon, Gav, we gotta go.” Michael’s throat was tight. He stood and pulled on Gavin’s shirt. “Grab him, we need to fucking leave, it’s not safe. They’re watching us. Get in the _fucking car!”_

Gavin could barely see as he lifted Ray and climbed into the backseat. He started screaming again, rocking him as Michael stomped the gas and peeled away.

Back on the street, blood was soaking the asphalt. There were clicks as someone in heavy boots marched up to the scene, clenching his fist around his rifle.

“You get him?”

His free hand reached up, clicking his headset. “Lad down,” he rumbled. There was a small smile on his face.

“I’ll let Geoff know. Nice shot, Ryan. See you back soon.”

Ryan slung the gun over his shoulder, strap cutting across his chest. “On my way.”

* * *

 

It left a scar in their hearts so deep, they weren’t sure they’d ever feel fine again. Michael closed himself off, cold and angry, starting fights in bars every night. Gavin cried until he couldn’t move. They both stopped eating. They buried him under a bed of roses; they didn’t speak the whole time, and after, they just laid there almost wishing they were dead so they couldn’t be without their X-Ray.

But Michael was pissed. And he schemed. And he was going to shoot the dick off every Gent if he had to. He was mapping out everything they knew about the Gents, sketching maps, looking at photos, and reading paper after paper of information. One time, he picked up a file, and he went still. Michael thumbed Ray’s handwriting: ‘Top Secret, Assholes!’ Michael bit his lip to keep from crying, but he was filled with a fire that was going to burn Los Santos to the fucking ground. He tore open the file and got back to work.

It took two weeks to plan. It gave them two weeks to recover. They’d started eating again. Gavin was tired, constantly slumped over with the weight of the world. Oh, but the desire to avenge his beloved X-Ray burned hot and dark in his belly. He’d cleaned all the guns in the house (except Ray’s, that just seemed wrong) and stocked up on ammo. Each passing day, the fire in Gavin grew until he, too, was a bonfire barely contained. Michael and Gavin orbited each other over those two weeks, beings of unadulterated rage ready to strike and ready to die if they had to. Good god, they were ready.

The soft clinks of ice on glass filled the room. Jazz music played, curling through the air among the smoke. Geoff was reclined on the couch, whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. His suit was wrinkled, like he’d been laying in it all day. Jack was at the map, marking something on the other side of the city; it was her turn to plan a heist, and she wasn’t budging until everything was perfect. Ryan sat at the dining table, polishing his rifle while his submachine gun waited in line to be cleaned. He lifted up the gun and loaded it, setting it to the side.

“How’s it looking over there, Jackie?” called Geoff lazily.

“Almost got it. Picking out some alternate routes just in case,” she murmured around the pen she was chewing. “ She turned on her heel and looked at Geoff. “This’d be easier if Burns was still alive.” Her eyes were like flint. Geoff winced at that look.

“I fuckin’ know that,” Geoff grumbled. “But he got sloppy. It’s his own fault.” He threw the rest of the whiskey down his throat. “Can’t win ‘em all.” He shifted off the couch and headed toward the kitchen. “You two want anything?” Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but Geoff waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, Coke, I know. Jack?”

“Just get me a beer.” She was turned back to the map, hip popped out while she rolled the end of the pen between her teeth.

Geoff poured himself another glass of whiskey before fishing a beer and a Coke out of the fridge. He was on his way back when he heard the unmistakable crack and bang of the door being broken off its hinges. He dropped everything, glass shattering. He pulled a shotgun from under the kitchen counter and ran into the living room. Three people had rushed through the doorway, guns pointed and faces behind masks. Two were on Ryan, and one was on Jackie. One swiveled to train on Geoff when he entered the room. Geoff pumped the shotgun.

“Who the fuck are you?” he barked furiously. “Fuck do you want?”

“Put your fuckin’ guns down.” He wasn’t sure who said it.

“Now why the fuck would we do that?” Geoff had his finger over the trigger. Ryan had his rifle, and Jackie had pulled out the pistol she kept in the waistband of her shorts. They were just waiting on the order.

One stepped forward and ripped his mask off. “Because I’ll shoot your fucking cocks off if you don’t,” Michael hissed.

The Lads. They’d found them. God, had they gotten that sloppy? Fucking Burns must have been a leaky channel after all. Geoff flicked his eyes to Ryan, trying to figure out what to do. He gave the tiniest shake of his head. He glanced to Jack, who did the same. She pulled back the hammer on her revolver, staring down at the man in front of her.

“I wouldn’t,” Gavin growled, pulling his mask off and throwing it to the floor. A third Lad Geoff hadn’t seen before did the same, keeping his gun trained on him.

“How’s about we discuss whatever the fuck you want instead?” offered Geoff. “My crew ain’t putting their guns down for shit. This is our house.”

“But it’s our rules,” said Michael. The air was crackling with the tension. Any moment it would be a bloodbath.

“You don’t know this place,” said Geoff, a smug look on his face. “We do. For all you know, we’ve got a fail safe and at just a whistle...this place blows.”

Michael’s eyes flashed. “Less work if you do.”

That was when Geoff knew they weren’t here for money. They weren’t here to gain control of anything. They were here to die if they had to. Here, no doubt, to avenge that fucking kid they’d killed. And that kind of rage, that kind of love, was goddamn deadly on the wrong side of the gun. He swallowed, but he never wavered. Geoff kept his shotgun on the new Lad, wondering how to get out of this and keep his Gents safe.

“Fuck you want then?” asked Ryan. Probably better he did. Geoff was sweating bullets, having figured it out. He was certain the other two had, as well, but they kept their composure better than he ever could. Michael stepped towards Ryan looking at the rifle in his hands. After a moment’s consideration, he cocked his gun. Geoff’s heart dropped; he knew it was Ryan, oh god, he knew.

“You.”

Gavin whipped around, eyes ablaze to look at Ryan. “You fucking killed him, you mother-”

Jackie fired twice into Gavin’s chest. All she’d needed was that split second. Gavin crumpled, and she got off one more shot into his throat before the man trained on Geoff whipped around. He opened her with his shotgun, blood spurting on the map behind her. Ryan tried to move, but Michael pulled the trigger and sprayed half a clip into the vagabond before he fell. Geoff took the time to fire into the unknown Lad, buckshot tearing through his back and sending him sprawling and coughing as he died. Someone was breathing through their blood, slowly getting quieter until they were gone. Michael and Geoff stood, staring each other down as they recovered. Hot, angry tears were forming into Michael’s eyes. Geoff was grinding his teeth. They two had lost everything. Their families were dead. Nothing fucking mattered, except being the one to finish the others off.

“This what you wanted?” Geoff said, voice hoarse as he tried to swallow his emotions. “You’ve got no one. You’ve got nothing now. Is that what you fucking wanted?”

Michael took two big steps forward, baring his teeth. “Fuck you. You fuckers started it. You tried pushing the goddamn boundaries. And then you fucking killed Ray. You’re fucking dead, Ramsey.”

Geoff laughed, eyes glossed over. He jerked his head towards his dead crew. “You’ve already killed me. Come on, fucker. Let’s go.”

A single shot rang through the air. There was a new stillness in the city.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, and let me know what you thought! (If you would, let me know what you thought of the open ending.)


End file.
